Cursed
by stories-such-as
Summary: A strange, unknown curse has befallen the remaining Death Eaters, wiping them all out and leaving Draco as the last one standing. Harry receives a call from the Malfoys, asking for his help to save his rival once again. But with the boys becoming closer, will new feelings be unlocked? Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Welp, this is my first story so enjoy! I do promise that I will live up to the M rating eventually so please hang in there! We gotta get through the angsty goodness first, right?

**Disclaimer:** Not going to keep repeating this on every chapter, but I own nothing! I give it all up to JK Rowling for being the awesome person she is to lend me all her wonderful characters to torment!

* * *

Harry's first summer after Voldemort's death was not turning out at all like he had expected. The swarming masses of die hard Golden Boy fans, he had anticipated. However, he didn't expect them to be waiting for him in front of Grimmauld Place 24/7. He couldn't imagine how the Daily Prophet was making money off of the few pictures they managed to get. _Harry Potter Ventures out of Hiding to Get Groceries_ was one of the few titles he had glimpsed as he threw the paper into his fireplace like he did every morning to start the day right.

To make it worse, Hermione and Ron, along with the rest of the Weasleys, were spending the summer with Charlie in Romania for a family gathering to mourn Fred. Harry had been invited, but he honestly didn't think he could handle being around any more reminders of the war and all the friends he lost to it.

The savior of the wizarding world gazed distractedly out of his drawing room window, magically stirring his tea with a swirling finger. He had gotten in the habit of writing letters to Hermione, even though he never actually sent them to her. He hadn't the heart to replace Hedwig yet, so there was a rather large pile of sealed messages to his friends stacked haphazardly around the room, often falling over on the unfortunate Kreacher if the ancient house elf tried to organize them.

Today, Harry had nothing on his mind but the trials after the war ended. He had seen on the cover of the Daily Prophet that Lucius Malfoy had broken his house arrest, but he didn't particularly care to find out why. He had tossed the paper aside immediately, but didn't burn it for some reason. He was still trying to convince himself that the Death Eater family didn't deserve to get the Kiss, but old childhood rivalries still clung to Harry's mind. Still, Harry could easily remember the terrified, pale face of Draco as he was brought before him. The whole family looked worse for wear and almost sickly, though Harry figured that anybody would be fearful knowing that their life lay in the hands of their enemy. But something had seemed off, Harry just couldn't figure out what it was.

Which was what he was trying to tell Hermione in his letter, but the words just wouldn't work. He longed for his friends to return, if only so he wouldn't be all alone in this big house with nobody but Kreacher to take his mind off the tragedy that had taken place just months ago. Not that the ancient house elf did a very good job of distracting him; every time Harry looked at the servant he could only see Dobby's huge, innocent eyes looking back.

Harry shook himself to clear his thoughts and picked up his wand. There was no way he was going to make the elf go shopping for him again; he was getting far too stir crazy being trapped in his house when he had grown so accustomed to camping in the woods for the previous half a year. Casting a spell on his tea to keep it warm until he returned, Harry summoned his jacket and prepared to face the masses that were sure to be lurking right outside his wards.

Just as Harry prepared to disapperate to his front porch, however, Kreacher appeared in the room with a loud snap, his oversized ears flapping in his face as he bowed low.

"Master Harry, a visitor at the floo for you. Nice pureblood wizard he is. Said for Kreacher to come straight to you and say it's urgent. Kreacher came as fast as he could for the praiseworthy wizard."

Harry was out of the room before Kreacher could finish singing the strange visitor's praises, a terrible feeling in his gut that he would not like this guest nearly as much as his elf seemed to. Entering the kitchen slowly, wand at the ready, his suspicions were confirmed by the very unwelcome head floating in his fireplace.

"This is breaking your curfew, Malfoy. Though you don't seem to care about that, now do you?"

Lucius Malfoy grimaced and Harry could tell, even through the fire, that the usually flawless wizard had something very wrong with him. Harry knew better then to trust appearances, however. The man was a Slytherin after all.

"I don't have time for your games, Potter. Since you, as well as the whole world it seems, are so knowledgeable about my current situation, it shouldn't be difficult for a prodigy such as yourself to put two and two together and realize the Ministry sent me here for you. Not me, personally, but time runs short and these blasted mediwizards don't do anything useful as it is." Lucius gave Harry the trademark Malfoy smirk, but it had lost any of its malice and became more of a wince of pain.

"I don't know what you're going on about Malfoy. Contrary to popular belief, I don't give a rat's arse about what goes on with your family matters. Now tell me why you're here before I turn you in."

"Have you been living under a rock, Potter? Surely, you of all people would read the Daily Prophet since your day to day life is such a thriller to the masses-"

Lucius's mocking voice was cut off by a violent coughing fit so intense that sparks flew from the hearth. It sounded like the man was literally about to cough out a lung or two.

"W-well while y-you m-may be a b-b-blithering idiot," Malfoy's speech was rough and he sounded like he was struggling to breathe between words. He coughed again before continuing. "The healers are getting desperate and we have n-no idea what to do. You, or m-more likely your b-blood, is the only c-chance we have left, Potter. So g-get over here b-before it's too late. Y-you're his l-last hope for survival," Malfoy's face was starting to fade and Harry heard shouting from the other side of the fireplace. Malfoy's face looked panicked, his already short breath coming out in wheezing gasps. "Please, hurry."

Then, only the dimly crackling fire remained.

Feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, Harry snatched the Prophet off the table and ripped the paper open. There was no way he was going to set foot in the Manor unless he had concrete evidence that he needed to be there. Not that he was even considering it, of course. He was just curious, was all.

He scanned the article about Lucius breaking his house arrest, but there was nothing suggesting as to why. Frustrated, Harry started tearing through the paper, searching for anything that dealt with the Malfoy family. Finally, under a disturbing article about what kind of toothpaste Harry Potter last purchased, the wizard found a small column next to an even smaller picture of Narcissa Malfoy grimly staring at the camera, looking very skinny and pale and swaying as if not steady on her own two feet. Next to the picture was a title that made Harry's jaw drop. "Narcissa Malfoy Dead, Only Two Death Eaters Remain Alive."

_Quite an unpleasant fate has met those who bore the Dark Mark. Since You-Know-Who's defeat, an unknown curse has done the job of wiping the world of his surviving followers in one of the worst ways we, as wizards, can imagine. While the gory details have been locked behind tight lips, it has been confirmed that Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the infamous Lucius Malfoy and mother of Draco Malfoy, has finally been killed, leaving behind the only two surviving Death Eaters. Despite the commendable efforts of healers and ministry workers alike, no counter curse has yet been discovered, leaving the two Malfoys to their fate and making us question if some divine justice is being served here…_

Harry made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat at the sheer atrocity that was the Daily Prophet. Even if they were Death Eaters, they were still human beings, dammit! The article made them sound lower than animals! And for what? To mar Narcissa's memory? If only the public knew that she was the reason Harry survived, they may have tried a bit harder to save the poor woman from her fate.

Harry jumped up from the table, yelling to Kreacher not to expect him back for a while. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. With only the slightest hesitation, Harry stood looking down at the flames. He had gotten the confirmation he needed, though. Now he just had to trust that the Malfoys weren't planning some elaborate scheme to kill him. Without another thought, the Chosen One threw the floo powder into the fire and yelled "Malfoy Manor."

He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar pull of the floo network and silently said goodbye to his peaceful, if a bit lonely, summer.


	2. Chapter 2

The second Harry appeared in the manor's fireplace, he had his wand in hand, ready to defend against any curses. However, none came and Harry was left pointing his wand at a trembling and exhausted looking mediwizard. The chubby little man slowly raised his empty hands in the air as surrender and Harry lowered his wand immediately, profusely apologizing for scaring the already unsteady healer.

"No apology needed, Mr Potter. Just please follow me to Mr Draco's room immediately. Lucius waisted his remaining strength on you, so we might as well put you to good use. Quickly now. We haven't much time."

Harry instantly felt terrible for taking so long arriving and hastily jogged after the mediwizard, who briskly marched down one of the lavishly decorated hallways. The blatant flaunting of wealth that the Malfoy's manor possessed made Harry feel almost nauseous as he was led through room after room, each more elaborate and luxurious as the last.

_I'm here to save Malfoy. Why I'm saving him I don't know, but then again, I never know why I save him time and time again._

Distracted by the effort it took not to run right back to the fireplace, Harry didn't see the mediwizard stop until he had nearly run the poor man over. They were standing before a surprisingly plain oak door.

The healer gave Harry a stern look. "We request you do not do or say anything to upset Mr Draco. He is in enough pain as it is and we can hardly manage to keep him from screaming himself to death. Mr Malfoy seemed to believe that since you were the one to end He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, only you can help his son. Please, Mr Potter, do whatever you can, even if it may be uncomfortable. And do not speak of this outside of this manor, do you understand?" The wizard waited for Harry to nod his confirmation before he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Harry felt the static feeling of a silencing spell being lifted. A blood curdling scream shattered the air, making Harry jump backwards and reflexively shield his ears with his hands. The healer beckoned him to move forward, however, so Harry hesitantly stepped into the room.

It looked like a hospital room and a potion lab had been mushed together, giving the room both a sterile and unsafe atmosphere. Harry could just barely hear the bubbling of the row of cauldrons lined up against the far wall under the harsh scream that had yet to cease. On the other side of the room, a fleet of mediwizards huddled around an enormous bed that took up a good third of the room. All the healers looked ready to drop from exhaustion as they wrung their hands over the mess of rumpled green and silver blankets where the screaming originated.

Harry was prodded forward and the door behind him was pushed shut. The bagged eyes of the healers all turned to look at him and the wizard on the far side of the bed waved him over tiredly. Taking a deep breath, he obeyed.

Not five feet from the bed, however, and the screaming came to an eerie halt. Several of the wizards looked completely taken aback at the sudden silence and Harry saw two of them pull cotton from their ears. He, too, slowly removed his hands from the sides of his head, uncertain of what events were going to unfold.

"Clo-closer," a raspy voice groaned from under the blankets. Shaking slightly, Harry took a hesitant step toward the bed, hearing a moan as a response. He took another step, then another. Each was met with a sound, be it from pain or relief Harry couldn't tell, from where Draco lay hidden.

Finally, Harry stepped up to the edge of the bed.

"Malfoy?" When he heard a whimper in response, Harry slowly reached out a hand and laid it gently on where he thought Draco's shoulder would be.

No sooner had he made contact with the blankets then they were harshly ripped away and a pale blur was launching itself at Harry, who shouted in surprise as he was knocked off his feet.

Deathly pale arms were locked firmly around Harry's waist as the far too skinny form of Draco Malfoy clung desperately to him. Harry began trying to fight back, but the demanding voice of a healer commanded him to stop struggling and Harry remembered that he wasn't allowed to do anything to cause Malfoy discomfort. The blond boy wasn't even moving as he lay draped over Harry's body, his face pressed into Harry's stomach so the only thing the dark-headed wizard could see was his sweat drenched pale hair. For a moment they lay there in utter silence, not even the mediwizards taking a breath. But then a quiet sob broke through.

"Malfoy?! Are you okay?" Harry instantly berated himself for his word choice. _Of course he's not okay he's sobbing into your stomach, idiot! Does that sound like something a person who is feeling okay would do?_

Draco didn't seem to realize Harry's idiotic comment, however, and continued to cry his eyes out on the front of the confused wizard's shirt.

Putting aside for a moment the fact that this was Draco Malfoy he was dealing with, Harry took a deep breath and then laid a hand gently on Draco's hair. When there was no negative reaction, he tentatively ran his fingers through the blond locks and was rewarded with a hitch in Draco's sobbing.

"What do you want me to do, Malfoy?"

The smaller boy flinched slightly at the sound of his name, but then shook his head against Harry's stomach.

"You just feel so good."

Harry fought down the blush that formed at Draco's words. _There is no way I am blushing because of Malfoy. This is just… confusing. That's it! My body doesn't know what's going on right now and he probably doesn't understand what he's saying anyway. It's not because of Malfoy it's not because of Malfoy it's not…_

The sound of yelling drew Harry's attention away from the blonde, his hand pausing in the pale hair as a loud bang erupted from the hallway. The door was suddenly blasted open and there stood Lucius, looking like death on his feet. His normally long, flowing hair was so thin his scalp was visible and the paleness of his skin looked unnatural. He took one look at where his son was sprawled on Harry's lap with his face still on the brunette's stomach, Harry's hand still in his hair, and a grimace of a smile twisted his face.

"I was right. Oh the irony is to die for."

With those words, the elder Malfoy crumpled to the ground, unmoving.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few hours moved in a haze for Harry. Mediwizards blurred past him like the world was stuck on fast-forward with him left on pause in the center of it all, the young Malfoy's body still draped over his lap as he slept for the first time in what had to be weeks, if not months.

Lucius Malfoy had been removed from the room and placed back in his own, but by the sound of the whispers in the hallway, he wasn't expected to last but a few hours longer, if that.

Through it all, Draco slept like the dead; the only indication of life being his erratic breathing and the retained tightness of his grip around Harry's waist. The mediwizards had tried to relocate the two to the bed for Harry's sake, but the second Draco seemed to sense he was being moved from the boy hero he began to silently scream and thrash against the wizards.

Thus, on the floor the two remained, being poked and prodded periodically by wands as the mediwizards attempted to decipher why Harry seemed to act as a tranquilizer. Notes were scratched on parchment, potions were bubbling in their cauldrons, and wizards who had been standing around for weeks waiting for their charge to die were running around like mad, new hope shining in their sleep deprived eyes.

Harry ignored all of it. His back was propped up against some pillows as he lay on the floor-though the carpet was so thick he found it hardly necessary-with one hand still in Draco's hair and the other tugging deftly at a loose string on his T-shirt.

_Why does everything always happen to me? Can't the world just realize that I've dealt with enough already!_

Harry sighed heavily, grunting softly when Draco unconsciously tightened his grip around his waist. Why was it always Malfoy, anyway?

Closing his eyes, Harry decided that he may as well spend his time serving as a body pillow taking a nap of his own, since it was clear he was not moving until a certain blond woke up. He finally drifted off to the rhythmic sound of bubbling potion, one last whisper making it's way to his ears.

_"Lucius is dead."_

* * *

"Mr Potter? Mr Potter please wake up!"

Harry groaned tiredly and attempted to roll away from the irritating voices, his neck aching for an unknown reason.

_Voices? Why are there people in my house? And what in Merlin's name is on top of me?_

The dark-haired boy cracked an eye open, but his glasses were too askew on his nose to allow him to see anything other than blurry outlines of faces bent towards him. He tried to raise a hand to restore his vision, but found that it, as well as the rest of his body, was pinned under something heavy and quite warm.

Blinking blearily, Harry glanced down and was met with a face full of blond hair.

"Gah!" the startled wizard shoved the body off of him and backpedaled until he hit the legs of a mediwizard.

"Where…. What…." fixing his glasses at last, Harry took in his surroundings, finally remembering where he was and why he was there.

He quickly returned his gaze to Draco, who has managed to latch a hand around Harry's ankle and was rubbing one eye with the other after his rude awakening. The blond looked so disheveled and discombobulated that Harry almost laughed. That was, until he finally spoke, his voice hardly audible and rasping like a chain-smoker's.

"Potter? What the hell? Why are you here? And why am I on the floor?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. So that was how it was going to be? He came all the way here just for pratty Malfoy to act too good? A small part of Harry's mind whispered that Malfoy hadn't said anything that offensive, but it was drowned out by Harry's grouchy, freshly awake thoughts.

"Hell if I know, Malfoy! All I was told is that your sorry ass needed saving again and apparently you needed me to do it! Now would you mind letting go of me?!"

"NO!" five voices all yelled in synch, four belonging to the hovering mediwizards and one belonging to a terrified-looking Draco. The grip on his ankle tightened immensely.

"Okay, okay. Sorry!" Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, taking a deep breath to fully awaken himself.

"Mr Potter? We have news for you. And you as well, Mr Malfoy…"

Harry sat up fully, glancing at the wizard who spoke. The man was wringing his hands nervously, unsure if he should continue.

"Well? Out with it!"

The mediwizard jumped and Harry grit his teeth. I am so not a morning person.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit tired. What do you have to tell us?"

The wizard's gaze switched to Draco, who was still laying sprawled on his stomach, clinging to Harry's ankle like his life depended on the contact. He was staring at the carpet, his unkept hair shielding his face from those above him, but Harry could see the twisted look on his face. Draco knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"Your father is gone, Mr Malfoy. We deeply apologize that we could not restore his health, but he was simply too far gone for us to save. We think it had something to do with…"

Harry wasn't listening to the wizard's medical speech, he was too focused on Draco's expression, which had turned from foreboding to absolutely anguished with the delivery of the news. He was the last Malfoy. The last Death Eater. The last enemy of the wizarding world.

He was completely _alone_.

Harry froze as the boy started pulling himself up by the ankle in his grasp. He seemed to realize his actions, however, when Harry shuddered in response to Draco's shaky breathing ghosting his leg. The ex Death Eater glanced almost guiltily up at the savior of the wizarding world and there were tears in his eyes threatening to spill over at any given moment, bringing Harry back to the last time he saw Malfoy cry. He had nearly killed him in the bathroom then, putting him through agonizing pain.

"… care, Mr Potter."

Harry shook his train of thought away, focusing back on the mediwizard.

"Sorry, but could you repeat?"

"I said, Lucius remained firm that young Mr Malfoy be left in your care, rather than under the protection of relatives. I assume it has something to do with the fact that you are the only thing we have discovered that relieves Mr Malfoy of the pain he has been suffering since the defeat of You-Know-Who, though we have no idea if it will prolong his life. That is, if you consent to letting Mr Malfoy live out the rest of his days without the agony of whatever curse is affecting him. It is entirely your choice."

The man gave Harry a look that pretty much declared that he had no choice in the matter if the mediwizards had anything to say about it.

_They would feel the need to guilt trip me into doing this, wouldn't they?_ Harry sighed, glancing back down at Draco, who was once again hiding his face and studying the carpet meticulously. _Well, I did say that even though the Malfoys were Death Eaters, they were still human after all. And nobody, no matter what they have done, deserves to die like Malfoy will if I leave him. But how long will it take? What if I'm stuck with him forever?_

Harry was taken out of his thoughts by a barely audible whisper.

"You don't have to. I wouldn't want to save me either, especially after…everything."

_Ah to hell with it._

"I'll do it. I'll take care of him until...the end."

Draco's head shot up in shock and all the mediwizards smiled grimly.

"Well then, as it is quite late would you mind if we all got some sleep? It's been far too long for all of us, and energy spells can have very negative health effects if used too frequently."

Harry nodded silently, his eyes locked with Draco's still shocked ones. A collective sigh resounded around the room and the wizards began to file out, leaving the two young men behind.

"You two should get some sleep as well. Mr Malfoy has to still be exhausted and you could probably use some rest on an actual bed, Mr Potter. We changed the linens, so it's clean for the two of you. Goodnight!"

The door closed with a resounding thud, leaving the room in silence.

_Well this is going to be awkward for sure. What kind of mediwizards leave a patient alone in the care of his childhood enemy anyway? They must really be dead on their feet._ Harry grimaced at his own negative metaphor before focusing back on Draco, who looked like he was about to pass out.

"Well, come on then. I'm sure as hell not carrying you to the bed so you may as well get up. Let go of my leg now, too."

Draco shook his head, moving so he was on his knees with his hand still firmly attached to Harry's ankle.

"I can't. It will hurt again."

There was a tremor in Draco's speech and Harry sighed. As much as he didn't like the constant contact, he preferred it over Draco's screaming anyway. And he didn't like seeing his enemy appearing so weak; it went against everything Harry had built up against the ex Death Eater.

"Well then grab my arm instead or something. I'm too tired to deal with your crap right now."

Draco gave him a look that plainly read _"you're too tired?"_ but didn't comment, instead reaching his unoccupied hand to hold Harry's wrist. The two wizards stood together and crashed down on the bed.

_Why do I keep having the need to save this bastard?_

Harry yawned widely, getting under the silk blankets and doing his best to ignore  
Draco's hand still residing on his arm. The blond had passed out as soon as he hit the mattress and Harry left him on top of the blankets, not wanting to actually have the contact that may happen if they had nothing separating in unconsciousness.

Malfoy's face was completely relaxed in his sleep, making him appear entirely too young and innocent; a complete 360 from the usually scowling boy Harry knew.

_Maybe I need to save him because I know he can still be saved._


	4. Chapter 4

Draco awoke slowly and groggily from the best sleep he had ever remembered having in his life. He yawned with his eyes still closed, stretching like a cat and against the protests of his extremely sore muscles.

_Why am I sore? Was I playing Quidditch yesterday or something? Or did father…Father? There's something…wrong._

Draco's eyebrows drew together and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the pressing darkness in his room as his pupils tried to focus.

_Dead. They're all dead._

The realization shocked him into a lockdown, he could barely even process that words were being spoken to him.

"...been asleep forever and I need to pee. Wait, you don't have to come with me to pee, do you? Draco? Hey! At least let go of me already!"

A hand shook his shoulder and Draco vaguely realized that he was still clinging to the arm of a slightly pissed Harry Potter.

_ Mother's gone. Father's gone. Everybody I knew is gone. And here I'm stuck with Harry fucking Potter to take away the pain of some god awful curse. What-how did this even happen to me? I can't even remember Mother's death!_

Draco felt his hands being pried away from where they were anchored to Harry's arm and the blond was too stricken to protest against the agony he knew awaited as soon as his skin left the other boy's. Honestly, to him the physical hurt would be nothing compared to the mental pain he was enduring.

The blond's eyes moved up from their focus on his green sheets to rest on Harry's face, which was scowling in concentration as he struggled to detach the remaining hand on his arm.

_ They're dead and he despises me. He'll probably just leave me to die once the mediwizards clear him to care for me. Dammit I'm not a child! I can take care of myself! Or can I? My whole life I've been taken care of. Why am I so helpless?_

Draco could feel his hand loosening it's grip on Harry's arm against his will and he pressed his eyes shut tightly.

_ He already can't stand to be near me. Just let me die, please. Like you want me to. Like everybody else has. I deserve it more than anybody._

The second contact was broken between the two, Harry victoriously shoved Draco's hands away and leapt off the bed, making a dash for the door on the far side of the room where he hoped the bathroom, or at least a bucket at this point, was located, not pausing for a second glance back at Draco, who's already tense body seemed to curl in on itself. With every step that Harry took, a sharp burning like the piercing of thousands of boiling hot needles spread further and deeper throughout his body.

He struggled to raise his hand, to call Harry back before it was too late, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a silent whimper, his shredded vocal chords refusing to produce sound.

Collapsing back onto the blankets, Draco was wracked with unbidden sobs as he waited alone in the dark room for others to piece him together, just like he had his whole miserable life.

* * *

Harry traipsed down the hallway, feeling ten pounds lighter, or emptier, as he approached what he hoped was Draco's bedroom door. Honestly, there were so many rooms in this ridiculous mansion Harry was half afraid of getting lost in the hallways forever.

He pushed the door open slowly, just in case he had the wrong room, and sighed as he was met with a somewhat familiar darkness. However, only once he entered the room did he sense something was terribly wrong.

"Malfoy? Oh _bloody hell_!" Harry dashed to the side of the bed where Draco lay curled in fetal position, his unfocused eyes raining down tears. Without a second thought, Harry slid into the bed, pulling the unresponsive blond onto his lap, cradling him like he would a frightened child.

"I'm sorry Malfoy, I'm so sorry. I didn't think…Merlin, I'm an idiot! I'm sorry, please stop crying I won't leave you again," Harry whispered soothingly, running a hand through Draco's hair like he had earlier, trying to calm the boy down. Only once Draco's sobs subsided did Harry realize what a strange situation this was. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to break the pressing silence, but to no avail.

Draco, who's pain had subsided the instant Harry came in contact with him, was absolutely humiliated.

"Shut up, Potter, I'm fine now. And I wasn't crying!"

Draco's voice was rough and weak, but Harry still flinched at the harsh tone before sighing when he realized it was just the old, cocky Malfo coming back. Still, it was somewhat embarrassing to be cradling a boy his same age on his bed in the middle of the night.

"Sure you're weren't, Malfoy. So you're saying you'd be fine if I let go of you right now, then?" Harry slightly relaxed the grip he had around Draco's shoulders teasingly, but instantly felt guilty when he felt the boy tense up and cling to his shirt.

"That isn't funny, Potter. Some wizarding hero you are!"

"Hey, I'm here aren't I? Helping you against my better judgement to keep you from dying in agony? You could at least be somewhat grateful!"

"For what?! Prolonging my suffering? Can't I just die free of you and all your people who tore my world apart? This would have never happened if it weren't for you!"

The two boys were yelling face to face, their foreheads almost touching. Draco was flushed with rage and exhaustion from so much emotional stress after suffering his torture for so long and Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. Draco was a prat, but he needed his help whether he wanted it or not.

"What do you mean this would have never happened if it weren't for me? Do you know what is causing this to happen to you?" Harry gently shook Draco's shoulder when the boy was unresponsive, opting to turn his face away from Harry's searching gaze.

"Of course I know, but there's not like anybody can do anything about it so why should I go around spewing to the world things it has no right knowing? And could you let me go? I just need a hand on your arm, not full body contact, you know."

Harry blushed slightly, glad that the room was quite dark as he released Draco from his lap, letting him keep one hand on his arm as he readjusted to sit with his legs crossed on the blankets, turned slightly away.

After a long, awkward silence, Harry spoke hesitantly.

"Well considering I'm pretty much stuck with you for a while at least, it would be nice to know what this whole mess is…" he ran off his sentence, hoping to lure Draco into talking.

Instead, he got a question in return.

"How long were we sleeping anyway?" Draco feigned nonchalance, examining his nails which he couldn't see in the dark room.

"Well _you_ slept through a whole day and half a night. _I_ on the other hand, woke up about nineteen hours ago and haven't been able to move since."

"Well that's your own bloody fault! Why'd you come snooping around here in the first place? Looking for dirt to sell to the Daily Prophet, were you? Couldn't keep your nose out of our business and leave well enough alone?"

"I was sent here by your _father_, a fact you seem strangely oblivious to since you were here when he told me to take care of you with his dying breath. So if you want to know why I was called here by him it might help if you told me why the hell I had to be here in the first place and why I'm acting like a pain tranquilizer!"

Draco flinched at the mention of his father's death. Taking a breath to steady himself, which he hoped Harry didn't hear, he managed to say, "A what?"

"It's a muggle invention. That's besides the point! You have information and you could at least have the courtesy to share it!"

"Why should I tell you?! It's not like you or anybody else cares! The world just wants to be rid of me, don't you get it? I'm the only one left! Just leave here and let me die in peace!"

Draco's voice grew steadily louder until he was shouting, or at least trying to. His voice grated and cracked with every word and Harry was sure his throat was bleeding.

"Calm down. I already told you I'm not leaving you again."

"How reassuring. I'm sure that will last at least a heroic few hours until you have to take an emergency piss again."

As much as Harry hated the biting sarcasm, he was almost glad that the old Malfoy was still powering strong through all this. The sobbing, weak boy earlier could never be able to embrace and endure whatever pain and suffering was coming his way.

"Well, can you at least tell me why I'm here? I don't need your whole backstory or anything. I just kind of want to know why…"

"...it's always you?" Draco finished Harry's sentence, coughing harshly afterward. "I would like to know that too."

Harry was about to ask what Draco meant by that last comment, but Draco held up his free hand when he heard Harry begin to talk.

"I swear, Potter, if you breathe a word of what I'm going to tell you to the mediwizards, I will make the rest of your life hell. Comprendé?"

Harry nodded his consent, waiting for Draco to continue. Instead of speaking, however, Draco rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, pressing his knee against Harry's leg when he had to break the contact with his hands. He grabbed Harry's hand and placed it on his bare arm, closing his eyes and waiting for Harry to realize what he was touching.

"Is that your-"

"Dark mark. Yeah."

Harry withdrew his hand swiftly from the skin that was raised in a pattern he knew all too well. He felt that his hand had been tainted, but then realized that that reaction was exactly what Draco had been fearing.

"Okay… so?"

"So you know the Dark Lord branded all his followers with the Dark Mark, using it to summon them and torture them when necessary, right? Well he apparently put another curse on us at the same time. A curse that made it so if he were to be defeated, his followers would die off as well."

Harry's eyebrows shot up his forehead. No way! Not that I wouldn't expect something that from Voldemort, but kill off his own followers through torture? Realizing Draco was waiting for a response, Harry came back from his own thoughts.

"Is that it?" he asked lamely, not sure what to say.

"Isn't that enough?! His most devout Death Eaters were the first to go, dying in less painful manners. The rest of us, got varying degrees of pain and suffering leading to their demise."

"Does that mean you're one of his least supportive, uh, supporters?"

"Your eloquence astounds me, Potter."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Draco merely grunted in response, rolling his sleeve back down and replacing his hand on Harry's arm.

"Father and I had been trying to escape the Dark Lord's ranks before the final battle. He was tired of the way we were treated and feared that we would be killed. My father may have been an awful man in your eyes, but at least he tried to keep his family safe, even if it meant his own life would be taken. That's why our family is-was-the last one standing. And it's also why we all went through such agony.

"Father had the worst of it; he was supposed to die last, after watching his family be tortured to death one by one until he was alone. He was trying to poison himself to keep the misery away, since he wasn't going through any life-threatening pain caused by the curse yet, but all it did was make life shorter and worse for Mother and I. She died first, her skin caught fire suddenly one afternoon and she was burned alive. My torture was meant to be slow and drawn out, but then Father realized that one person might save me: the killer of the Dark Lord.

"So he called for you to come and you came like an absolute idiot right before all my suffering could have ended in my death. So now I must live in the dark; not knowing when I'll die or if the suffering will continue, left in the hands of my enemy. That must have been why Father was able to die: seeing me under your care would be similar enough to me being dead to him."

Harry sat in silence, trying to take in all the information. Draco had been right about one thing, the mediwizards couldn't know. No matter what kind of precautionary measures they would take, somebody would give the information to the wrong person and Harry couldn't even begin to imagine what Rita Skeeter would do with a scoop like _that_.

"So now what? Do we try to counteract the curse? Or do we just wait around for you to die?

"Well since the first is impossible and the second is improbable since I doubt you will stick around for that long, I think we should sleep some more."

With that, Draco turned away from Harry, still holding one of his arms and dragging the appendage with him so the dark haired wizard was unintentionally forced to lay back down with an arm draped around Draco's shoulders. He tried to pull away, but the boy was already back asleep, still drained from the trauma he had endured.

_ I guess we will just have to wait for something to happen. Though I hope it doesn't take too long..._

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Woo another chapter! Thank you so very much for all the reviews! They make me inspired to write more! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Well I would totally start listing off excuses for taking so long to update... but you guys probably wouldn't believe them anyway so I'll just face the angry masses as is! Anyho, I do apologize for any freaky bi-polar moments that occur with the characters, but I was trying to type this over several days and, well, it doesn't work out as well as I expected! I'll try to update the next chapter ASAP!

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"Ouch! Malfoy watch your elbows! Could you let go of my hand for one second? Seriously, you don't have to pull me through your shirt!"

"Oh shut up, Potter. Here, give me your other hand or something so I can get this all the way off. Stop being a pansy it's not like I'm naked or anything. Yet."

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco and stepped on the blond's bare foot, wrenching his hands out of Malfoy's grasp and flinging his filthy shirt to the floor.

"Well…I guess you could do that too…"

After being stuck in bed with Draco as he slept for almost two days straight, Harry was forced to accompany the boy as he took his first shower in…how long? Harry didn't even want to think about it. All he knew was that after the initial shock of the situation evaporated, he realized that Draco absolutely _reeked_.

That didn't mean that he was willing to get in a shower with him.

"You may as well take off your shirt too while your arms are free, Potter. Unless you're shy or something."

Harry looked at the floor, hiding his blush. Of course he wasn't shy exactly. He had been shirtless around Ron quite too often for shyness. But that was his best friend, who was either kind or smart enough to not comment on any of Harry's imperfections. Life hadn't left Harry without scars, but while everybody knew about the one on his head, not many people were aware of the others.

"Can't I just stand out here and, like, put a hand on your shoulder while you shower and then we switch places," Harry asked the floor tiles, earning an impatient huff from Draco.

"Oh cut the crap would you? You can't be _that_ self conscious. I mean, look at me! I look like something death chewed up and spat back out and I don't give a fuck!"

Harry glanced up at Draco's malnourished frame and tried not to wince at the fact that he could count each and every one of his ribs just by looking at them.

Wait, Harry's thoughts interrupted his observations. Is Malfoy trying to comfort me?

Draco saw the look on his face and snorted in amusement.

"I want to bloody _shower_, Potter. So before you get any weird ideas in your head about me being a nice person you better reflect on the fact that it has been months since I last had this opportunity. And, well, you don't smell all that good either."

"Shut up, you probably can't even smell anything but yourself right now-Malfoy! Stop!"

It was too late; Draco had taken advantage of Harry's lapse in defense and used the wand hidden in his back pocket to vanish the protesting boy's shirt.

"Now then. That wasn't so bad. That shirt was ugly as hell anyway, so I did a service getting rid of it for you. Now then. Are you going to take off the rest of your clothes, or shall they meet the same fate?"

After quite a bit of yelling and Harry forever losing his favorite underwear, the boys were standing back to back under the stream of hot water. Harry had his back arched awkwardly, giving his best attempt to avoid accidentally grinding his butt against Draco's while their shoulders still touched as they scrubbed the sweat and grime off of themselves.

"What's the matter, Potter? You seem ridiculously self conscious for being the Golden Boy."

Harry straightened up a little, feeling suddenly awkward. Why was he freaking out so much? Draco was right when he pointed out that he himself looked like hell, but for some reason, Harry had been expecting that. Not many people expected anything secretive about Harry, especially now that the war was over and there was no reason for him to hide.

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Harry finally replied, trying to rinse the shampoo out of his hair without breaking contact with Draco.

"Well you know a bunch of my problems now, don't ya? So why can't I know some of yours in return?"

Harry ground his teeth. He did not want to have this conversation with Malfoy at all. Especially since he was lacking pants right now.

"Come on!" Draco elbowed him in the side from behind. "Stop being so high and mighty, Potter. Why won't you tell me?!"

"Because you're a-"

Harry bit his tongue before the words could make it out of his mouth, but it was too late. Draco could easily fill in the rest and Harry felt the blond's back stiffen against his.

_ Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit Harry you idiot!_

Harry waited for the yelling to start or to feel a fist make contact, but all Draco replied with was a quiet "I see," before they both finished their shower and clambered into their towels. Draco silently led the way from the bathroom, loosely holding Harry's wrist with one hand and staring straight ahead.

They got dressed without speaking, the exception being when Harry had to awkwardly ask to borrow clothes to replace his vanished ones. Once both were presentable, however, the silence was stifling.

"So. Uh. I'm going to have to go back to my house and get some things… or, I mean, you can come live there too, we don't have to stay here if you don't want to it's your decision I don't want to force you to live where you don't want to and-"

"Harry," Harry was shocked out of his ramble. Did Malfoy really just use his first name? Was that even _allowed_?

"Er… yes M-Draco?" The name felt strange on his tongue and even though they weren't facing each other directly, Harry saw Malfoy smirk slightly.

"We need to talk, okay? And none of this bullshit about not being able to trust me because of… what I was. The Dark Lord,"

"Voldemort," Harry corrected on impulse, causing Draco to flinch slightly.

"Yeah, him. Well, he's gone if you hadn't noticed. Which you might not have, I mean, you've never been the brightest after all," Draco chuckled glancing at Harry's "you're a douchebag" expression out of the corner of his eye before continuing.

"But in all seriousness, it's past and we can't really help being on different sides. We were born into it after all. So really, we're enemies because people forced us to be, right?"

"Merlin, you're so full of it, Mal-Draco. We're enemies because you were meaner than a blast-ended skrewt to my friends and I the whole time we were at Hogwarts. Or don't you remember that detail?"

"Well you weren't exactly peachy to me either! I asked to be friends the second we got to the school but _nooo_ the Golden Boy was too good for somebody like me."

"That's a lie and you know it! You were such a prat back then!"

"How are you so sure that I still am?!"

"Because you're Malfoy!"

"And that's the only reason why we hate each other, isn't it?"

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The hand on his wrist was tight enough to cut off circulation to his hand, but Harry refused to yank his arm away. As much as he didn't like Malfoy, he would keep to his promise to never make him suffer like he had earlier.

After a few minutes to cool off, Harry stomached his pride and faced Draco directly.

"Yes. It is."

"Then allow me to re-introduce myself," Draco stuck out a hand and raised his eyebrows encouragingly at Harry.

"I am Draco. Just Draco. And you are?"

"Harry. Just Harry," Harry took Draco's outstretched hand with his wrist still being held. It all felt rather stupid to him, but he realized what was going on. They were starting 100% fresh. Without the war or anything hanging over them. To Harry it felt strangely refreshing. Of course, they were once in the war and were rivals, but when they were here by themselves, none of that had to be a part of _this_. Whatever _this_ was anyway.

Draco released Harry's wrist and smiled slightly, shaking hands longer than necessary in order to remain in contact.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. Now, please take me away from this god-awful house. I don't care where we go, as long as we leave before the mediwizards are back and as long as food is involved at some point in the near future."

Harry smirked at Draco's demanding tone. _Freaking prat_, he thought, but not with as much malice as usual.

"I don't know, Draco. Are you sure you don't want to hang around for a while? I'm sure they'll have tons of fun trying to prescribe our weird connection. We don't want to deny them that do we?"

"You're still wearing my underwear, _Harry_."

Harry blushed and cleared his throat before releasing Draco's hand to grab his wrist instead.

"Who needs science and shit anyway? I always was horrid at potions and all that. Grab some clothes so we don't have to hurry back. The mediwizards said they'd be returning around 11, so we have 15 minutes to get the hell out of here."

Harry allowed himself to be dragged all over the manor as Draco grabbed a seemingly random assortment of things that he shoved hastily into Harry's free arm. Finally, they reached the fireplace from which Harry arrived. Draco grasped a messy handful of floo powder and pulled them both into the flames. They heard apparition cracks just as Draco flung down the powder and Harry yelled "Grimmauld Place!"

In a swirl of green flames, the two wizards left Malfoy Manor and a flurry of confused mediwizards behind.


End file.
